Poetry is but a Crusty Mistake

Poetry has always come easy.
Arrogance or a compassion for ink to page
The poetry of toil
Poetry of pain
Poetry of love
Poetry of war
Poetry that bends and breaks and just becomes more of the same.
Poetry wrapped in a humanitarian burrito for you to consume.
The words have been said before.
The theme is a crusty mistake to reminisce over.
The present tense and the daily journals of a poet are fresh and new on the shelf.
The destription of a Beer spilt on a cellphone is now described with epic failure and beauty.

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One thought on “Poetry is but a Crusty Mistake

  1. dreamingthruthetwilight says:

    The buzzing bee doesn’t stop to think
    The sky, the moon and the stars that blink
    They just do what they have to do
    That’s the way it is , and should be for you.

    So go on and write, a thought old or new
    It doesn’t matter whether many or few.
    So what if it has been said before?
    The scene is new when YOU look through YOUR door.

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